The Fantastic Monday Flu

Adorable, but full of germs.

It's funny how most of the stress that I have in my life comes from two primary sources: a.) nannying, and b.) Chem. Class. While these two things are completely unrelated, they do occasionally find ways to connect themselves in my vast circle of Unimportant Stephic Events.
Take Monday for example. Dear Lord, Monday.
I showed up for work at the Nanny-Family's to be greeted with the news that I was not going to be alone the entire day with the small blonde one. The trio of Mexican cleaning ladies were going to come at three, much to my utter dismay. I'd made it clear to Nanny-Mommy that I wanted the cleaning ladies to come a different day, because it's a little hard to maneuver myself and Brody around them with their various chemicals, especially when it's about three degrees outside. Usually when they would come, I would just make a point to take Brody out in the stroller for two long periods of time, maybe arrive at the park, and spend a lot of time in the backyard. In the winter, it's so much harder. I also can't play one of the many bizarre games that I make up on a whim to entertain him inside, because they would think I was mental. So, when they arrive, we have to spend the three hours they are here in the child's tiny bedroom.
This, added onto the fact that I had a myriad of questions to answer for my Chemistry class and a Spanish III test to take, just made my stress level skyrocket.
So, the first half of the day went wonderful, mostly due to the fact that Brody took an hour and a half nap in the middle of the day, and we watched half of The Fantastic Mr. Fox. We couldn't take a walk, though, so he was completely hyped up on energy and had nothing to do with it except for pound up against the baby gate and defy my every movement. The joys of being one and a half.
Once the cleaning ladies came, there was no time for a second nap on Brody's watch. I was like, "Shit, now I will have about three hours of homework after I get home...", and since I get migraine headaches at the drop of a pen, I was now in a world of pain. And locked in the baby's room while he spun in circles like a helicopter and threw books at my head.
When Nanny-Daddy got home, I was feeling like my head was going to explode with pain. I was over-stressed, tired, and wanted nothing more than to go home and sleep for a week. But life can't ever be that simple, can it? By the end of the night, I did manage to get everything done and take a shower before getting to bed, but I still can't believe I managed to live through it.

Then I got the flu.

Early Wednesday morning, I had to jump out of bed two times and sprint to the bathroom to toss my cookies into the loo before stumbling back and landing in Nod. I vaguely remembered Nanny-Mommy mentioning that Brody had had the flu that weekend, and had since recovered, and then regretted ever kissing his little his little head before placing him in his crib. Dang.
I called her and told her I was sick and couldn't make it to their house that morning, only to find out that she, too, had the flu. Coincidence, right?
Puke.

My mom had to go and work at Operation Christmas Child that afternoon, though, so I spent the next seven hours home alone with a plastic bowl and a cat. I don't think I've spent that much time asleep in, well, a very long time. From eight in the morning to seven-o-clock that night, I was more or less drifting in and out of consciousness until Mother and Dano came home with some 7-Up and water crackers for me to consume. Which, then, I realized, I hadn't eaten anything all day. Couldn't keep anything down.
So I ate, and went back to bed.